


Blue

by KhadaVengean



Series: Colors [3]
Category: Yu-Gi-Oh! Duel Monsters (Anime & Manga)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Angst, Character Study, F/M, First Love, Fluff, Implied Sexual Content, Kinda, Kisara is such a wonderful character, Lots of kissing, Mention of Death, Post-Canon, Present Tense, Reincarnation, Relationship Study, Romance, True Love, and i love her
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-28
Updated: 2020-12-28
Packaged: 2021-03-10 19:28:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,371
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28392414
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KhadaVengean/pseuds/KhadaVengean
Summary: Something deep blooms inside his heart. He meets her, after all this time.He won't let her go.(Beginning to climax of Seto Kaiba's relationship with a reincarnated Kisara)
Relationships: Kaiba Seto/Kisara
Series: Colors [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2019424
Comments: 11
Kudos: 13





	Blue

**Author's Note:**

> Oh boi. If someone would have told me that I will write a oneshot for YuGiOh a couple of months ago, I would have laughed. But here we are. And man, I'm happy about it that I've rediscovered this great couple. A shame that the mangaka couldn't bring us more from these two but I guess that's good for me. ^^
> 
> Any kudo or review is appreciated. I'm not too sure about Kaiba's character, so any kind of input is welcome. Even if it's completely wrong, I would be happy about opinions. 
> 
> English is not my first language. Please be aware of that. 
> 
> [Soundtrack and Picture that has brought me back into this deep pit names Yugioh](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=y_XmBdRKzLs)

It isn’t the first time he sees her. Somehow, he doubts that it will be the last.

White hair. Blue eyes. Pale skin, without any blemishes. Delicate fingers, an elegant slope of her nose, her lips opened to a small ‘o’. Her mane being bound to a ponytail, falling over her left shoulder, exposing a fragile and slender neck.

One look is enough. One little contact is sufficient to bring back pictures and visions and dreams. Something that is forgotten in the most secluded part of his mind. He needs his head for other things – to keep the company rolling, to protect his brother, to tame the nightmares that accompany a flash of blood and screams. Desperation rolling over his limbs, squeezing his heart into a tight grip of fear, only by mocking him in making him forget everything at once.

But she is there. Just across the street. Through the masses of reporters trying to a get a single answer from him about some charity event he has to organize, he recognizes her.

A fragile girl. A maiden with the eyes of blue. Ice blue. But on the other hand, a woman who knows what she wants. A gaze so strong, so powerful, cutting through the air and wind with a razor sharp edge. It makes even him waver in his stance.

Seto Kaiba is looking at her. Truly. For years, he has spent his time thinking that it was trivial. That his nightmares are simple things – just nightmares. To believe that former lives were even existent is something he had brushed off. He needs to lead his own life. For himself. For Mokuba.

But his resolve is crumbling. He sees it.

Inside those blue eyes.

Haunting him when he passes her, continuing to go forward. He has other things to do. Other matters to take care of. Different priorities.

The presence of a girl who is a continuous part of his dreams is not one of them.

And so, he passes. Doesn’t look at her.

Although a single voice in his head pleads him to change his mind, so meek and pathetic, that he simply brushes it off. He doesn’t dare to look back.

* * *

The nightmares come back.

Seto looks at the ceiling. An arm draped over his forehead, he ponders. Thinks. The images are gone. The voices have faded. The sensations disappear. The feeling eradicates.

Yet, he wishes he has changed it.

There are a few regrets in his life. Sometimes, he might say there are none. He knows what he’s doing. And he’s proficient at this.

But to not look back to her is maybe one of the few regrets he carries right in this moment.

* * *

The reason why he isn’t surprised that the stone walls were still in the museum is simple: it’s Ishizu’s doing. After everything, he still doesn’t understand this woman at all and adding all those things she has talked about, there are even lesser reasons to trust her.

Although it doesn’t keep him away. Seto enters the museum just at the brink before closing. A simple hand motion for the staff and they know what to do. After all, to throw out one of the most powerful people of Japan is simply something you doesn’t do. It is uncouth and Seto uses his chance.

He steps into the room. The stone tablets are still locked behind thick glass, telling stories of a time where the cards he earns money with have been used as a means to fight out battles and wars. He sees himself in one of them, a version of him long gone and buried underneath the Egyptian sand, fighting someone who looks like Yugi Mutou.

It doesn’t stagger him to see her there. Right in front of the one with himself displayed and the pharaoh, the Black-Magician and the Blue Eyes White Dragon. Her white hair is bound to a loose bun, strands escaping the style and for an irrational moment of time, he wishes to feel them between his fingertips.

He knows her.

And yet, he doesn’t.

Without any words, he steps forward. Taking the spot right next to her, he cranes his neck a little bit to see it. To see them. The priest and his closest companion.

Seto doesn’t dare to look into her profile.

Silence comes up between them. And for simple seconds, when he forgets about time and place, him simply looking at a wall made of ancient stone, he is done and wishes to turn around.

“It’s...”

Her voice, gentle and reassuring, a bloom of peace inside the endless void of chaos, sounds through the room with gentle vibrancy that reaches his bones and let them shudder. A shiver runs down his spine and Seto curses the world under his breath.

“It’s a beautiful creature,” she says, her eyes locked on the dragon. His most loyal companion roaring high above his head, fighting by his side. Never leaving him alone, always there for him.

Instead of last time, Seto risks a look at her profile and recognizes her once again: the elegant slope of her nose, the corners of her mouth, her cheekbones, her pale skin, her white hair, her blue eyes. She is beautiful, she is ethereal. A speck of light in a world of darkness, something unreachable and unobtainable.

That, he thinks for the blink of time. But right now, he recognizes that she doesn’t bear linen of brown with blemishes tarnishing her skin, shackles around her wrists and her bloodied body in his arms, her light fading out of her eyes. She doesn’t look like an outcast.

Rather, she wears a blue skirt that reaches her knees and a white sweater tucked into the fabric. She looks like a swan, standing there so elegantly and effortless. She doesn’t need to try to look like she owns the world.

In fact, she bears the appearance of a queen.

He wishes to tell her that the Blue Eyes White Dragon is not beautiful – it is proud, strong, powerful. Capable to protect those around them and not backing down from an enemy opposing them. He has always thought that they were alike: both of them standing strong in this world filled with disorder, standing at the top of the food chain, ready to eliminate anyone who stands in their way.

The voice inside of him triumphs over thousand others, crushing his reason and the sentence that lays on the tip of his tongue was a simple compliment.

_You’re beautiful._

But Seto is the only one left in this game of his mind and he bites it back. The words don’t leave his mouth. Silence is his field of reign, his greatest fort and he hates too many words.

It’s hanging low between them. A thick fog, ready to divide and keep them apart. Perhaps it really was just a motion, a funny moment for him to leave his cool behind.

“My name is Kisara.”

A soft spoken introduction. A sword that cuts away the fog. A moment of respite and everything crashes back to him.

He sees her. He feels her skin. She is a lightweight, a fragile flower in his arms. He is sure that she will be carried to the sky above their heads, in another time, to another place.

The sensation of irritation passes. And yet, there is no feeling of void. Only uncertainty. A fusion of white, blue, and pale. Something to keep his heart in a tender grip, something that sets a hand right above his chest. A weight against his back.

“Seto Kaiba.”

His first name falls with softness. His last name with determination.

This time, they look at each other. They move their chins to the respective direction – she to the right, he to the left. There is no distance between them, no staggering feeling of walking on glass shards. No surprise, simply contentment.

Seto is sure that this isn’t the last time he will see her again.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Mister Kaiba.” She quickly bows her head, her black clothed knees bending just a little bit. She is of no low birth. She doesn’t cower. She is elegant. Graceful. Fragile.

Strong. She stands on her two legs, tilts her head at him and allows herself to show him a small smile.

He feels his bottom lip tremble. He bites it, reigns it down.

“Likewise.”

A simple word and a simple smile. It is enough to make him look into her bright blue eyes.

* * *

They meet again. Over and over. Some may simply call it coincidence during the first couple of times. Others call it creepy when their paths cross after a number that they couldn’t simply brush off as a simple chance.

Some send him looks. He ignores them. This is neither the time nor place to think about it. There are other things in his life. And they do not include a possible romance with the young lady with eyes of blue.

That’s what he tells himself when others are looking at him. Curiosity, surprise, doubt. Lifted eyebrows, shrugs and gossip behind manicured hands. The majority is neutral, surprised that the CEO of Kaiba Corporation seems to have a heart as well.

A quick gaze and it was enough to slice their curiosity in two. It’s rude to speak about others while they are present. Seto is here to lead one of the biggest companies in the world and this can spread among his employees, capable to reach the outside. He is no one for lying and he will not tolerate it any further than this point.

The points have been long crossed. And he is at a loss. That becomes clear when Mokuba, him, of all persons in his life, steps up to him and shows him a doubting gaze. Someone who can look between the small cracks in his face.

Over the years, Mokuba has become a sly boy. He has learned much, fulfilling his role as vice-president of Kaiba Co. Standing proud and capable right next to him, establishing his own ideas and his growing mind to an extend that others are in awe of watching him.

They are brothers. Two who have learned to rise from the lowest lines to the highest heights. They who have fought themselves out the dirt to earn the right to enjoy the life, built on loads of work and plenty of wealth.

Though he manages to surprise him. When a new challenger appears and seems to be quiet promising, Kaiba does not hesitate to accept the fight and they duel in front of multiple people. The PR section, Mokuba included, have done their very best to portray this whole fight as a thing to not be forgotten.

He enters the ring, looks forward at the face of his opponent. Seto feels the power coursing through his veins. His artery is hitting rapidly against his skin, his heart following the rhythm of battle and there is no hesitation in his stance. He won’t lose this fight – there is only one person who can defeat him.

The battle begins. And it is as clear as day that his opponent doesn’t last long. The defeating look of his failure is obvious on his face and Seto doesn’t revel in it. He looks at his hand, recognizes the skip of his heartbeat and he summons him.

“Come forth! Blue Eyes White Dragon!”

The sky cracks. The wind howls. And his most trusted companion appears by his side, like it is meant to be.

And right in this moment, just when Seto Kaiba is feeling victorious and powerful, he allows the corners of his eyes to wander. A fatal mistake.

He sees her. In the crowds, she may be easy to oversee. For a normal person.

But not for him.

His eyes find her and like two poles, her eyes search his like his opposite. They meet, they clash, their destination is each other.

There is a look of relief on her face. A smile on her lips. Contentment in her eyes.

She nods.

_Go._

“Burst Stream of Destruction!”

His loyal partner attacks. The girl watches with fascination and recognition in her eyes.

His opponent falls. He loses. Seto wins. It’s not the first time, nor will it be the last. He looks at the girl once more and she smiles at him truly, opening her eyes and a pearl finds its way down her cheek. The streak glows under the beaming sun and for a moment, he feels transported back in time.

She nods.

She understands.

Seto turns his back and leaves his crowd cheering for someone he doesn’t need to be reminded of.

For him, the duel is done. There is nothing more to do. Until he learns of his brother’s sly ability to turn the tables and he enters the backstage with the young woman by his side. She is standing out from everyone around her, her white hair flowing down her back and her blue eyes sparkling with a thin sheet of unshed tears. He doesn’t understand why.

“Mokuba.” He crosses his arms in front of his chest and sees the stubbornness in his brother’s eyes. The times when he needs his help are over. “What is the meaning of this?”

“I’ve invited Kisara.” He mimics him, crossing his arms in front of his chest. Seto watches the girl look between them, confusion obvious in her features. It seems like she isn’t involved in his plans either. “She was interested to see your duel.”

“What is she doing here?” He narrows his eyes. “There is no reason that permits her to be here.”

“She wanted to congratulate you.” Mokuba lowers his arms, turns to the girl standing right behind him. “Right?”

“Uhm, yes. But I didn’t intend to intrude on anything-”

“You’re not intruding, no worries about it!” There is a smile on his brother’s face and Seto feels a low pulse of rage echo through his bones. Mokuba is a sly man, he came so far and knows how to play. He isn’t sure to be either worried, annoyed, impressed or terrified. “Since you two know each other, I will leave you and take care of the press. See you around!”

He watches how the girl loses her surprised face, shock manifesting in her features and he feels how his patience finally snaps. “Mokuba-”

The door closes and they are alone. The strength and impatience leave his limbs when he risks another look at her and their eyes meet again. She looks uncertain, mirroring him in a cruel and twisted way. She has one of her hands placed on her heart, her white bangs following her short and rapid movements. “My apologies,” she speaks in a small voice. “I wasn’t aware that your brother would try to get you into this situation.”

“You are not the only one.” He turns his body into her direction, the grip of his arms weakening. “What did he tell you?”

“He offered me a ticket to come here. He seems to have taken note of our acquaintanceship, as many others did.” For a second, he notices a look of guilt on her delicate features. “He asked me what I thought about the duel and I told him that I’d like to congratulate you. I have thought that he told you this.”

“Obviously, he didn’t.”

His mind congratulates him. His reasons praises him. His heart curses him. His soul kicks him in the shin.

Seto sighs. He pinches the bridge of his nose. Curses him and everything sane in this world.

“To congratulate you wasn’t my only intention to come here.” A look of uncertainty lets her features ripple. “I have also wished to thank you.”

His eyebrow rises. “For what?”

“Ever since I’ve seen you on TV for the first time, I’ve wished to see a Blue Eyes White Dragon in reality. Thank you for using it today.” She bows quickly, but he catches the glint in her eyes. It seems there wasn’t much to say when she is already so quickly looking through him.

He grunts. Turns his back to her. “Anything else?”

She stays quiet. Silent. For a moment, he wonders if everything that has happened in these few moments is a dream.

“Do you remember?”

Her words are sharper than any razor, more powerful than the ultimate being and more on point than he will ever be able to speak out loud.

He staggers. He has expected many things – but not this.

“This-”

He remembers her. Dead. But she is alive. A dragon. But she is human.

In the past. She is in the present.

When he turns his head, she looks at him with patience. And a feeling he has thought to never see for him.

Her blue eyes are shining brightly with something he is not able to decipher. She is a step ahead of him. Basking in the light that shines through the window, she is everything at once.

A dragon. Proud. Powerful. Patient.

A girl. Fragile. Kind. Modest.

A queen. Determined. Dignified. Graceful.

She is everything he wants to be. Everything that he wishes for. And she is standing right in front of him. So close to reach.

But she is so far away. He sees it. Inside her eyes. They are looking at him. And it is a motion he is not sure how to handle.

They are not in Egypt. There are no wide landscapes of the desert stretching around them. There is no war. There is no blood. There is no death.

They are standing in a room in Domino City, three thousand years later. In a time of peace. There is no need to die. No emergency that demands sacrifices.

Seto Kaiba allows his shoulders to fall.

“Yes.”

A whisper that is meant for her. He looks up.

Tears are dwelling on her lids. And her smile is hesitant, cracking, trembling.

It’s the most beautiful thing he has ever seen.

“Thank you.”

* * *

The night is their guardian. The dark sky becomes their safe haven. The stillness of the environment enhances her words and voice.

They don’t court each other. For that, their relationship (can he even call it like that?) has been going on too for long. Their encounters are limited to simple talks or merely feeling the presence of the other person right next to them. There are nights in which not even one word is spoken. There are others where she speaks about herself.

And there are nights which resolves around his nightmares and her dreams. She speaks of the dream to fly, high in the sky, above the clouds and far away from humans wishing to shackle her down. Her eyes light up whenever she tells him of the sensation of the wind in on her skin and the cool breeze that touches her gently. She is in love with those dreams, she wishes those dreams to come true. He sees it.

She looks at him, silently begging him to tell her his version. He feels it between them, something to not be broken apart, after so many lives and years of being distanced and lost in this vast sea of the world. He refuses most of the time; he doesn’t wish to talk about it. But rarely, close to never, she manages to open his mouth and tell her about the nightmares.

His is the complete opposite: he speaks of sadness, of fear, of guilt. To know that she has sacrificed herself for him in another life fills his chest with void, sensations he can’t place or name. These are things he hasn’t felt in his life.

“I’ve made the decisions I deemed right.”

She looks at him in admiration. In adoration. Something tender. In longing and desire.

“I wish I could have done that too. For so many years, I’ve wandered this world and wondered what kind of purpose I have. If there even was one.” The lights of Domino City were reflected in her blue orbs and it reminded him of the sky at night with stars sparkling. “I was uncertain, unsure. There were people who wished to bring me harm, who tried to cut me apart from my happiness. I’ve survived and I’m sitting here now. All those questions...”

He watches her blink. Something is caught in her eyelashes.

Only months later, he will realize they were tears.

“Have you found it?”

Answer. Purpose. Meaning. Happiness.

She turns her head, looks at him and even though her head is white and her eyes are blue, she is the sun. Eternal in its light and warmth.

“I have.”

He is not sure what to say.

* * *

Among the many encounters they share, there is no development. They do not touch, they do not scoot closer to each other. They keep their distance, their limbs held close to their bodies. Even the uncertainty stays the same.

Until one day, it vanishes. They meet again, under the security of the night sky, the light of the city under their feet. She looks upwards and he watches her – her slender neck, the elegant slope of her nose, her delicate cheekbones, her elegantly curved chin, the gracefulness she possesses. He feels his fingers tremble and to stay right next to her becomes painful.

But there is still no place he’d rather like to be.

She looks at him. Her blue eyes glittering. Her white hair is catching the light like a mirror and letting it shine so much brighter. He thinks she is not real.

Stepping forward and cupping her cheeks, he knows she’s real. The uncertainty is gone – only the core remained and he leaned his forehead against hers.

“Kisara….”

It is the first time he speaks her name.

He opens his eyes for a minimum, and he doesn’t see the tone of her light blue button-up shirt which hides the majority of her neck with a collar. He sees her clad in brown linen, which shows that she is a low-born, nothing more than a filthy peasant. But she isn’t.

She is a queen. The love of a king. She deserves the world displayed at her feet. For all the sacrifices she has brought and the things she has done for this world.

She is beautiful. She is ethereal. She is out of this world.

He fears she will disappear.

“Seto...”

Her voice becomes his anchor. She is there. So close, not far away. He holds her.

He is leaning down. Their lips brush. It wasn’t a bolt of electricity. She tastes full.

A little hitch in her breath and she touches his hands on her cheeks. She stands on her tiptoes to give him a better access.

He kisses her again.

He is finally home.

* * *

Her touch is tender. A hand on his arm. Their fingers interlocked. It brings shivers down his spine, making his shoulders tremble and her giggle. She presses a kiss against his cheek or his neck, resting at his pulse for the blink of an eye and she retreats.

Despite the uncertain excitement in his veins, Seto is tranquil. His words become assured, his stance more steadfast, his gestures more grounded.

Even though Mokuba earns a remark every time Seto catches him staring at him.

And whenever they meet, secluded and away from prying eyes on the roof of the Kaiba Corporation, the sensation becomes stronger. They speak less. They do not need to.

Whenever he wishes to speak, he cups her cheeks and kisses her. These are words that do not need to be spoken and she understands.

He’s grateful for it.

* * *

Weeks pass on. He continues his work without hesitation or distractions. Seto is capable to divide these two effortless, without any obstacle that tells him otherwise. He is the CEO of Kaiba Corporation, after all. There is nothing to stop him.

But he is one side. Kisara is the other. And he sees it every time they meet. She is grateful. She whispers it into his ears. She is peaceful, finding a moment of rest in her hectic life as a college student. There is a bubble built around them where no opinions or anything matter. They are for themselves, Seto and Kisara and he is not hesitant to shut down anyone who dares to hurt the woman right next to him.

But it is a dream, an illusion. He needs to realize this. He is a rational person and should not be so easily deceived.

But temptation and his desire are strong.

The topic that makes him halt in his steps is the organization of a fundraising for the next tournament of Kaiba Corporation. It is the ideal location to make advertisement for the products and to gain new allies with people who have just recently appeared on the market. It is a thing he needs to do every year and while Seto is not the biggest fan of it (to be more precise, it is a major pain in the ass) but it is his duty as CEO. He needs to let the money flow and to keep the sponsors and partners pleased. The company comes first.

Mokuba gives him the idea.

“Why don’t you take Kisara as your partner to the party?” His little brother shrugs but Seto recognizes the scheming glint in his eyes. “I bet she would like to go.”

He starts to say: “Mokuba, this is absolutely none of your-”

“Plus,” he says and his voice is louder than the steady one of himself, he gives him another point, “I think she may get the attention of some others and can help you get some new sponsors. She’s charming and I’m pretty sure she’d be the star of the evening.

His argumentation is flawless. He is once more surprised how much his brother has grown up. Seto ponders for how long he has thought about it. How much detail he has put into these thoughts to suggest him this possibility.

He knows what he values. And to hear it from him makes it less ridiculous than from any other person.

But does he want it?

“It’s just an idea.” He shrugs, but Mokuba is smarter than that. He knows how to make his points valid and make it work. While Seto is someone who deals with hard facts, Mokuba needs to drop a hint and most of the times, everything falls into place.

Seto thinks about it. There are surely advantages to this idea – he certainly stops the pile of women that do not know any kind of common decency and throw themselves at him at every given opportunity. She will give him the chance to speak with people who have not been easily reachable before due to her open demeanor. She can make the evening lighter, a task that normally Mokuba tries to take over but usually fails because many guests do not know when to shut up.

But the other side? What about her? Is she even willing to accompany him to such an event?

He curses this uncertainty. To think that he simply can not answer this idea with a simple yes or no takes all might from his brain.

So there is only thing he can do.

During their next meeting, a certainly playful mood striking her on this evening, joy obvious in her every elegant line on her face, he asks her.

“There is a fundraising event in four weeks.” His voice is even. “Would you consider accompanying me?”

The moon is caught in her eyes. She doesn’t touch him, but folds her hands under her chin and smiles at him as bright as the full planet right above their heads. “Yes!”

* * *

He has it organized on time. On the same day, he has the date set. Three days later, the invitations are sent out. He leaves the majority of things to Mokuba and his team. He takes care of the inside while his brother is managing everything around: location, catering, decoration, entertainment, guest list. The only person Seto has initiated to attend will be by his side the entire evening and he doesn’t want it any other way.

He works on the presentation. He’s thinking about possible strategies to win them over. His goal is to exceed the number of associates he already has and he knows it will be difficult to convince them all. All- nighters are spent in his office, sleep being replaced by caffeine and the idea of bringing another milestone of glory to the Kaiba Corporation. A constant battle between his mind to work further and his reason to slow it down.

He has enough of slowing it down. He has wasted enough time already. There is only one direction to go – forward. Into the future.

Seto doesn’t see her. Only glimpses from their ‘coincidental’ meetings. And based on fact, they are coincidental. He doesn’t have intention of seeing her. But apparently, something or someone doesn’t want them to be apart for too long.

He doesn’t care. They do not speak. Looks are enough. Especially from her bright blue eyes and her smile.

On the day where the event is happening, Seto stands in front of the mirror and fixes his cravat. It has the same shade as his eyes – combined with the high quality black suit he wears. The logo of his company is stitched on the left side of his collar, close to his pulse. The expensive watch on his wrist shows him that he’s right on time.

He attends these kinds of events on a regular basis. It belongs to him, he knows the rules. And yet, it’s different.

For the quarter of a second, he wonders how she will look.

But the sequence passes and he turns his back. He aims to the door of his bedroom.

He has a battle to fight.

* * *

Mokuba has outdone himself this time. Even for someone like Seto, who normally doesn’t give an opinion about the ambiance, he has to admit that his brother has a very good eye for this. It’s classy without being overloaded. The colors of white and blue show the essence of Kaiba Corporation and he knows that the evening will be a success.

This is enhanced when Roland comes up and tells him a message he has been awaiting the whole evening, right before the event starts. The people are buzzing around him, last minute adjustments being made and he hears how a stone falls and silence erupts.

“Sir, there is a woman waiting at the entrance for you.” He speaks calmly, but Seto is no fool: he sees how nervous and confused he is. He guesses that the rumors will end this evening. “She told me that you have invited her.”

“That is indeed correct.” He squares his shoulders. “Keep your eye on the preparations. I will be back in a minute.”

“Of course.” A quick nod from Roland and Seto leaves the room. He catches the thumbs up from Mokuba and rolls his eyes.

The breeze is cool on his face. The building is large enough for all the guests to fit in and all the workers bow in front of him. They only rise when he is out of their sight.

From afar, he already recognizes her. How is he supposed not to? She is a sight to behold and he knows that she will be his for this evening.

_Not only for this evening,_ his heart seems to whisper. The thing that has cursed him once speaks in the most tender voice now.

He is unsure what to say. He focuses, his hands in his pockets. “Kisara.” It is a melody from his tongue, the one he never wanted to lose.

She turns her head. Her strands made of pure snow dance in the breeze, a flower pinned into the base of her high ponytail. It falls down her shoulder in a soft spoken embrace, a quiet companion for the evening and something to warm her skin. Her eyes, black-framed with her long lashes, blink for a second and the smile that varies in intensity, brightness and joy seems to be one of silent admiration. Her movements are smaller, no great gestures, but she still manages to keep his heart in an even rhythm. Only the tiniest step brings it into a disarray and it is something he manages to deal with. “Good evening, Seto.” She is unsure on her small heels, the black shoes complimenting her white dress that reaches her knees. “I hope I didn’t catch you off guard?”

“Never.” He is sure that there is no way to achieve that, but he doesn’t tell her. He knows he is supposed to compliment her outfit. But he doesn’t. She knows this already. She knows he finds her beautiful.

The kisses they have shared already are enough proof of that.

“Let’s go.” He speaks, gestures to the entrance of the building and Kisara nods. She clutches her purse a little bit tighter.

“Don’t leave my side this evening.”

He only murmurs the words but from the turn of her head, he sees how easily she understands. She nods, smiles, and follows him full of trust.

* * *

Kisara becomes more certain. She doesn’t waver on her heels nor does she show any sign of discomfort. She speaks with the guests, introduces herself as someone who has great interest in the works of the Kaiba Corporation and giving him the ideal signal to speak about his works to the people who are not as invested as the already knowing people are.

She smiles, she laughs, she cracks jokes. She takes all of the chandelier’s lights above their heads and absorbs it into her smile. He sees the guests’ enchantment on their faces, the way multiple men try to build a line to talk to her. She is his counterpart, not too strong – they match each other perfectly and it is something he quietly smirks about.

While the evening carries on, he observes her: the way she walks, how she moves her hips (and that was a thought he isn’t very sure to keep thinking or not) to a rhythm in a head only she knows. How she seems to be truly interested in all the guests. She doesn’t make small-talk, but light conversation. A veteran like him who is used to such events can only watch her in awe how easily she adapts. It is difficult to believe that this is her first time attending such a party.

Especially her looks; the men will never openly admit it due to the women’s growing jealousy and they will never agree to it because of their small ego and fake confidence, but they all agree.

Kisara is beautiful. An enigma, not needing masses of fabric and tons of make-up. She excels in her natural looks, her motions that seem to flow naturally from her limbs. She doesn’t fake, she doesn’t bear a facade and it is a breath of fresh air in this stuffy room for Seto.

Even her short missing due to visiting a private place is noticed immediately. He hears their whispers about her, the question about her identity lingering in every corner.

“I wasn’t aware that you have grown up so quickly, Kaiba.” An all too familiar voice cuts through the murmured filled air and Seto feels his shoulders stiff uncomfortably. “Is there any kind of hope that you will finally put down this rude demeanor of yours?”

“Pegasus.” The name falls from his lips like a strained band, ready to snap at any given moment. “Why should I if it keeps people like you distant from me?”

“So harsh again. What a pity. I guess it was foolish to think that the presence of such a lovely woman could change your heart.” The man is playing with him, a glint visible in his eye. Gaining amusement from other people seems to be a trait that Pegasus never takes off.

Seto narrows his eyes. He feels the irritation clawing up his back once more, whenever he’s speaking with the creator of Duel Monsters. And to see that he belongs to the group of people who has taken a look at Kisara means more trouble than he really needs.

“Tell me, Kaiba, who is the graceful and lovely lady who is accompanying you on this evening? She seems to be quiet the natural talent.” A chuckle. “A woman who is able to withstand your harsh and rude personality certainly must have the patience of an angel. And the looks she gives you whenever you’re not noticing them.” He covered his smile with a hand. “Such a rare sight to see.”

“Is there anything else you want to talk about or do you truly take such great satisfaction from snooping into other’s private life? You have certainly fallen, Pegasus.” He feels how it doesn’t stop there. “Not that it surprises me.”

“There are some things that never change, Kaiba. And your arrogance is certainly one of them. To think that you still believe that you are ahead of every single person around you is a trait you should better put off. You know the sentence _haughtiness comes before the event,_ right?” His eyes wander and as soon as Seto hears her voice echo through the giant room, he feels his heart both calm down and beat even quicker. “Well then, let’s hope that the lovely lady will show you that there will be consequences if you keep acting like this.”

Before the words can properly reach him, he sees how his features change. The amusement is gone, his own pleasure fading and the only thing left is the face of a grieving man. To see sadness and something different than his smile, that normally drives him to his wit’s end, on his face is a sight Seto is not used to. To imagine that Maximilian Pegasus is even able to show something like this. “Let me give you a tip, Kaiba. Something I have learned.”

The world comes to a halt. His words from before echo in his ears, reaching a part of him he wishes to hide and secure in the darkness.

“I don’t need to meet her personally to know that she is someone special. The way you look at each other says enough. Everyone who tries to deny this is a fool, nothing more.”

The sound of her heels clacking is different from the other women’s. Light. Effortless. Flying. He knows she’s close.

“Treasure her, Kaiba. Hold her close. You never know when they will leave. Sometimes, it’s coming from nowhere and you will be the one losing in end.” Pegasus closes his eye. “That is all.”

Seto gulps.

“I wish you a pleasant evening, Kaiba. I look forward to your presentation.” Pegasus smirks, but he can see his last words in the way he moves. He’s slower. There is something on him that drags him down. And he isn’t sure what it is.

“Seto?”

Two steps come to a halt. A comforting presence reaches his mind and he lets out a deep breath. He shoulders sink. His mind is silent.

“Kisara.” The way he speaks her name is a way to calm his heart. It grows quieter, far away from the trouble it has gone through just a few moments ago.

“Yes?” Her voice is calm. Comforting.

“I will begin with the presentation now.” He risks a look to the side. Their eyes meet. He sees her worry, her concern. Her uncertainty. To know that even someone like can carry this look makes him relieved. “I will get to you as soon as I’m finished.”

“Of course.” Her uncertainty manifests in a smile. “Good luck.”

“I don’t need it.”

Her features fall and the words of Pegasus haunt his mind.

“But… thank you.”

She doesn’t smile. She folds her hands in front of her chest. He feels her eyes on his back when he aims for the stage. He calls Mokuba and Roland by his side.

He feels her longing wavering to him across the entire room.

* * *

The presentation is flawless. Everything is going according to plan. The people are elevated, applause reaching his ears and he knows he’s got the deal. There is nothing to stop him now.

Kisara is standing on the sidelines. She doesn’t mingle with the crowd. The corner of his left eye is always put on her, never leaving her out of his sight. He observes her; watches how she has her hands folded while he speaks about the rules. The way her eyes only look at him and never leave him alone during his explanation of the settings. She doesn’t pay attention to a man who is walking up to her, trying to strike a conversation.

Seto and Kisara never leave each other’s sights.

* * *

As the host, he is the last one to go. When all the guests have finally managed to find their way to the exit, some having difficulties due to the massive amount of alcohol they have consumed. He is disgusted by the way they let themselves go loose and lose their control, not only speaking the most stupid things he has ever heard in life, but it is a way to falsely boost their fragile ego.

Seto searches for her. When Mokuba has already gone home, he is the only one left except for the staff that has started to clean everything. Even Roland, who normally never leaves is sight, is gone – he has enough decency to know that this will be a moment solely for both of them.

He finds her standing outside. With shivering shoulders and her arms crossed, she looks at the sky above their heads. The flower in her hair is lost in the white color. A frown on her face is something that brings him off-balance and for a moment, he wonders if he should leave her alone.

But she seems to have noticed him. This time, he doesn’t need to call her name. She already turns her head into his direction, her eyes catching the moonlight and she tilts her head when he approaches her. “Seto,” she breathes out. Her look is catching, gentle desperation open to him like a children’s book and he wishes he knows what to say in such a moment.

“Is everything alright?” He steps close to her, but not close enough. He gives her space, awaiting her reaction. “The party is over. Do you-”

His words are cut off. He loses his voice. He loses his breath. He loses his mind.

His heart sighs in relief. His soul doesn’t know whether to cry out of laughter or laugh out of crying.

But he knows one thing.

To kiss Kisara after weeks of denying himself this pleasure, it feels like reaching an oasis after the desert. The first drop of water that lights his lungs in a bloom of life, denying the reaper the pleasure of taking another life.

He needs this. He doesn’t think that it’s this bad. But it is.

But before his hands or limbs can react fast enough, the feeling of her lips against his is gone and he hears her sigh. “I’m sorry,” she speaks through heavy breaths, leaning her forehead against his chest. He feels her rapid breath on his skin, her warmth seeping into the layers and warming him from the inside. “I-”

He doesn’t let her speak. Instead, he cups her cheeks and indulges her. He catches her gasp like water, swallows her breath like nectar and drowns her little moans with his mouth. He feels sounds escaping from the top of his lungs, putting his arms around her waist and pressing her close to him. He’s grateful for her heels.

Their lips touch, their kisses growing more impatient. Passion and desire are words he has considered to never need in his dictionary, but she throws everything upside down. With his arms around her waist and hers around his neck, they seek each other. Moths to flames, flowers to the sun, love to be nurtured and not withering.

They interrupt their session at the same time. Their eyes meet, her blue eyes widened and glistening with something he isn’t able to call tears. Is it the light? The moon?

“I haven’t thought about much else this evening.” With delicate fingers, she traces the shape of his lips, her thumb lingering on the bottom. She kissed his bottom lip in a tender sweetness, her taste reaching him and he tries to bring himself under control. “To see you speaking with everyone, to watch how you give this presentation was torture.” Her thumbs trace the shape of his cheekbones, her eyes glittering under the night sky.

He catches her hand, presses it against his skin and closes his eyes. He waits, hears her exhausted breathing, continues to think and finally says: “There were many men who wished to talk to you.”

She tilts her head.

_But you are mine,_ he wishes to say. _We only need each other. There is no one else who could be as strong as you._

But she is a queen. She deserves so much more than words.

Instead, he leans down and whispers, right before their lips meet once again: “Kisara.”

For a moment, he fears that she hears his heart beat like a beast in his chest. Their lips touch, she is sweet and Seto listens to her moans and sighs under his lips and tongue. Her skin is soft under his hands, without any blemishes and she offers herself to him.

Let’s just say that a kiss isn’t the only thing they share that night.

* * *

He is shocked to see how quickly Kisara becomes famous among his associates. Once a girl with nearly no acquaintances in this foreign land after she has come from Europe, she becomes the main thing to talk about when his business partners wish to start with small talk. She gains many names from company directors and his employees. ‘Pretty lady’, ‘lovely woman’, ‘gorgeous partner’. His employees speak about her as though she is nothing but a ghost, haunting the main building of Kaiba Corporation. Only a small number of people has seen her and yet, her name lingers in every corner.

When they meet another time and shared another part of their heart, she lies right next to him, her cheek pressed against his rib cage and her white hair flowing down her back, draping over his skin. It is quiet during this night, her breaths fanning his skin and letting him shiver. He’s not sure if it is because of the contrast of temperature or because of the thing that has just happened again between them.

He tells her under hushed whispers of those changes. How there are so many men and women interested in her, how she commands the attention of so many people by just appearing by his side once. He watches her reaction, observing her features and Seto’s heart elates when she smiles at him quietly. There is a twinkle in her blue orbs, the corners of her mouth permanently frozen in her motion and she giggles, her face pressed against his skin. “I am sure that they are just surprised. People normally try to explain phenomenons they can’t understand by giving them weird names.”

“And what exactly is this phenomenon supposed to be about?”  
  


She raises her upper body, folds her arms on his stomach and places her chin on her hands, watching him under batted eyelashes. “You’ve become quiet the mystery among the people, Seto. It will pass.”

“If it doesn’t, I will make sure of it.”

“There is no need. Let them have their fun.” The bed creaks when she hovers over him, straddling his hips and redirecting her chin on his heart. Her white mane is pure and driven snow, her blue eyes the clearest skies and reminding him of the sea. “Let them talk. I don’t mind it. Who would have thought that I’d get such a reputation among a group of people?”

She becomes silent after her words, her voice quietening down and she lowers her shoulders. She seeks his warmth, humming thankfully when he fingers her strands. He follows the elegant curve of her neck, redirecting the flow of her hair to her left shoulder and seeks her scent.

“At least a positive one.” Carefully, she searches for his hand, intertwining their fingers. Her grip is strong, desperate, gentle and longing. “Seto-”

“Don’t even start to think. It is their loss to think so lowly of you. Not your fault.” He cups her right cheek, his thumb pressing just a little bit stronger against her skin. She looks at him, her smile quiet, but sad. Grieving. There isn’t much she has told him about the things she has lived through back in Europe, but the small specks he has learned is enough for him to form an opinion. A rather harsh one, so to say.

“Tell me, Seto.” She mirrors his action, cupping his cheek and tracing his bottom lip with her thumb. She rises just a little bit, her hand on the other side of his face and he only watches as Kisara leans her forehead against his. “Do you regret this? To spend your time with a woman who distracts you from work and the life you have lived before?” Her blue eyes widen, a little pearl finding its way down to her cheek. It reminds him of the time she has seen him in the arena. It’s only been a couple of months, but it feels like an eternity.

“Do you regret bonding with a woman just because of the idea that we have shared a connection?”

His other hand, lying right on the sheets, grabs them in one strong pull. The mere idea is putting him in a spot he hates and for a moment, he’s uncertain whether it is out of anger or sorrow.

But he is Seto Kaiba. And when he knows something, he keeps to this. Where would he be if he isn’t so sure about it?

With a grunt, clenching teeth and a shoot of confidence, he flips them. Kisara yelps, staring at him wide-eyed and with an open mouth. The shock is gone, the uncertainty and wavering trust disappear in thin air.

“I do not regret things. I never did and I will not start with this. I have come too far to question my decisions. It doesn’t matter if they are private or business related.” He cages her head between his arms, his lips hovering over hers. They share their breath, their oxygen, their life. “I will never choose something simply because it has happened once already. The present and future are mine and I will not allow anyone to take it.”

He hears the hitch in her breath and his voice, once booming with a razor sharp edge, lowers to a quieter tone. Words, only shared between them and without anyone’s allowance to intrude. A secret that is kept between them. “Tell me, Kisara.”

Their foreheads touch. “Do you regret it? Do you regret leaving your life behind and coming here, meeting a man and thinking that the only connection you share with him is based on a thing that is supposed to have happened in another life? Do you believe that someone else has chosen this outcome for you and not you yourself?”

Silence is the first answer. A stock in her breathing is the second. And a small sob is the last one.

“Seto,” she breathes and he kisses her. Long, hard, unrelenting. From a certain point on, their kissing turns to a game of tongues and teeth. There is no structure, their desire to feel the other is enough to keep them going. “I’m-”

“Stop.” Another kiss to her mouth, catching her sobs and tears and he whispers like a prayer: “Perhaps not words will prove it.”

She blushes heavily, one hand being pressed against her mouth and she opens her mouth in an open cry when he finds her. The moment he uses his fingers and hands and she cries tears and moans loud enough to reach the next rooms.

But he doesn’t care.

They unite, once more. The world is theirs. The future is theirs to take and form. The past is a thing they leave behind. The present is only a temporary stop.

This is it. And nothing else.

The moment she lies in his arms, sound asleep with their hearts beating against each other, he closes his eyes and allows himself to sleep.

* * *

Mokuba grins at him. It is sly, a smirk and Seto sighs heavily.

“Yes.”

It is the only answer he needs to give him before he jumps from his chair and his little brother stalks out of the room.

“Roland, you owe me some serious money!”

Seto can only groan.

* * *

Apparently, the news that Seto Kaiba is officially taken evokes a couple of heart attacks among the Japanese Society. He simply rolls his eyes and continues to work. He kindly tells his brother to leave him alone with this stuff, this being the last thing he needs to worry about.

His associates congratulate him. He brushes it off, focusing on the more important manners at hand. He isn’t the type to boast about her. He separates private and business matters, has perfected it to a point that is able to scare others. But there is one person who is capable to sneak under his skin no matter how much he tries to deny and ignore it.

A message from Maximilan Pegasus reaches him all of a sudden on a seemingly normal day. Simple words, a mix of his confident smirk and laughing attitude over to his heavy shoulders and his sad face.

“ _I’m glad you have made the right choice. Greet your lovely lady from me, will you?”_

He nearly wishes to rip it into two.

* * *

Kisara is light and the night sky. She is a deep winter with a summer smile. She dances like a professional and yet let it appear like the most natural movements.

She is an enigma. Her white hair billows after her like a trail and he watches in fascination how she laughs, bending down to his sitting position and pulling him upwards.

“Join me,” she chuckles and laces her arms behind his neck. Their lips meet and one thing follows the other.

He doesn’t mind.

* * *

He is glad that both Mokuba and Kisara seem to be on good terms. It is one thing he is always wary about.

But it has disadvantages as well.

“Don’t you dare tell her that!”

His brother grins and doesn’t stop with all the stories. Kisara beams, begins to laugh and leans over to kiss his cheek. With her nose against his temple, it is difficult to stay mad.

* * *

Her heart swells when he summons the Blue Eyes White Dragon. That is something she has told him when they sit side by side. She holds the cards in her hands, all three of them, cradling them like precious gems.

His most loyal servants. His most loyal partner.

The girl sitting right next to him glows.

He doesn’t need to speak. He has learned his lesson. He kisses her.

* * *

The sky is their guardian. The stars are their witness. The moon is their fortune teller.

The necklace in Seto’s hands is delicate, fragile. A thin gold band, he carefully ties it around her elegant neck and fixes it in the back. With fluid movements, he sweeps it back, letting it flow down her back. White hair. Blue eyes.

The same blue eyes that have once looked at him in sorrow. In despair. In gentle desperation. Under a desert sky, in a world torn apart by war.

Right now, they are in peace. They are together.

“Thank you.”

He kisses her. The sky is their guardian. She is icy to the touch and warms his heart.

The charm of the necklace glowed icy blue under the silver moonlight.


End file.
